Achtung, Meine Schönes
by Fellest
Summary: A WWII AU: When Arthur falls in love with a French waitress, he finds out more then intially that she's hiding more then just her occupation! Warning: Contains Nazi!Arthur and Transvestite!Francine -cois- , not to ruin the surprise or anything...
1. Treffen Frankreich

**Achtung, Meine Schönes**

_WARNING: Contains Nazi!England and Transvestite!France, though I've tried not to make it in bad taste. Plus, France doesn't have his stubble in this, since it would just ruin his disguise as a girl. Contains human names and is in an AU._

Chapter 1: Treffen Frankreich

Arthur straightened up his dark green, Nazi uniform, watching the two brothers in front of him quarrel. They were outside, in the courtyard of one of the Parisian areas. Gilbert smirked, his navy blue uniform crinkling as he turned from his brother, saying, "And that's why, bro, that we shouldn't trust that Ivan guy. He's Russian; he's just trying to find away home, the coward!"

"Brother, _achtung_! And that's _Brigadeführer_ to you, _Standartenführer_!" Ludwig hit his forehead with his gloved hand. His uniform was black, with the SS insignia upon the collar. He crossed his arms and said, "Look, ve have no other spy to rely on, ve'll just have to keep an eye on him! _Sturmbannführer_ Arthur, I want you to stay here, in Paris, till I find the _other Brigadeführer_ from the Spanish army—"

"Hey look: it's that chic you like, Arthur!" Much to Ludwig's annoyance, the Prussian pointed at a _woman_ with blonde hair, serving a couple of German soldiers at a café.

Arthur blushed, trying to resist the temptation to look over, and failing dismally. The woman giggled, running her long, thin fingers through those golden curls of hers. The other hand played at the rim of her white apron, which covered her black maid dress from any spillage.

The waitress went to return to the café, when she caught site of Arthur. Shyly, she waved at him, and in return, he waved back, watching her smile sweetly and return into the café. Arthur shook his head and looked away, scolding at Gilbert.

The Prussian shrugged and smirked, "Just calls them as I sees them…"

Gilbert and Arthur spent most of the day monitoring the square, with the other German nowhere insight. Much to the Prussian's glee, Arthur seemed to be paying more attention to the French maid then for the rogue Spaniard. However, after a few hours of doing nothing but walking around, boredom caught up to Gilbert, as he pulled Arthur to the café.

"Come on, I need something to eat, and _you_ need to talk to that girl!"

"Wha- no, no Gilbert- let go of me! I'm going back to HQ—"

"Ex_cuse me!_ That's _Standartenführer_ thank you very much. Now come on!"

He pulled the blushing man to one of the tables out in front of the café, away from the other people. Before the Prussian could whip out the cuffs, the French waitress appeared at their table, holding a tray, shyly, at her chest. She smiled and asked, in a deep-ish voice, "Hello, I'm Francine, what would you like today?"

Arthur looked away, muttering, "Just a tea thanks…"

Gilbert chuckled, patting his friend and colleague on the shoulder. "You're so shy, Arthur. Why don't you ask her out—"

"Shut-up Gilbert! I'm not going to just because you think it's—"

But Arthur stopped. Francine had covered her mouth, trying to suppress the giggles she had. Arthur blushed, thinking it was so cute. When she caught site of Arthur's expression, she gasped and began to apologise, "Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to offend you _mon amis_ it's just…"

Smiling, Arthur waved his hand and said, "No, it's just," He looked up at her with such an affectionate smile, "You're kind of cute when you laugh…"

Gilbert burst into laughter, as the woman blushed and looked away. "Way to go, Arthur!"

"Oh, shut-up, _Standartenführer_!"

"So," they looked at the waitress again, who lowered her tray to reveal a low collared top, and a somewhat _flat_ chest. Still blushing, she asked, "So, so a, tea and a—"

"Cheapest beer you got!"

"Gilbert!"

"What?"

Arthur's eye twitched at the ignorance of his colleague. "It's not even three in the afternoon, yet…"

"So, can't I enjoy a cool beverage in summer time Paris?"

Arthur sighed, "It's winter you idiot—"

"I'll be right back, then," said Francine softly, turning on her heels and left.

Gilbert nudged his friend and grinned. "See, wasn't too hard was it? Now you just have to ask her out, mate—"

"What! No! I can't date a French woman! What kind of German soldier would I—"

"Yes, but you're English, aren't you?"

Arthur glared at the man. "How did you know that?"

The Prussian snickered. "Brother has contacts all over the place, you know. He found out you moved to Germany a little over ten years ago, just before the boycott began. You're lucky, we would've kicked you out if you came after the _Führer_ was elected as Chancellor."

Francine returned, placing their drinks on the table carefully. She smiled and asked, "Is there anything else, _messieurs_?"

The two shook their heads. "Okay, then I'll return for the check when you're done." She bowed and turned away, tending to another table of Nazi's, who were, ignorantly, talking louder then Gilbert and Arthur.

The Englishman scoffed down, with no affect, half his tea and turned to Gilbert, asking, "So where _is_ your dear brother. Is he actually looking for Antonio, or did he just say that to get rid of us?"

"You're pretty attentive. Yeah, he just wanted us out of the way. I know where the Spaniard is! I think he's off in Italy for while, looking for that Italian bloke he likes, or something…"

"Why did Ludwig want us out of the way?"

Gilbert, having downed his beer as well, burped, looked around and whispered, "Well, it's supposed to be secret, so _don't tell anyone!_ Got it? Anyway: some of the Nazi's here got wind of some rebellion that some of the locals, and a few hidden American's, are suppose to be putting on. So they're trying to come up with a plan to weed out the agitators, or something—"

"Check?" Francine suddenly appeared her tray up to her chest again. They jumped a little at her arrival.

Gilbert was about to say something, mouth open and all, but was stopped by Arthur, who slapped him in the face and said, "Here, I'll pay for the drinks. You go somewhere, and watch the ducks in the pond or something…"

At the word ducks, Gilbert's ears pricked up and he was off, yelling, "DUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIES!!!"

Arthur got up and held out several francs for the waitress. When she went to receive it, his hand closed in on hers. He blushed, turning away as he let go. She looked down, not noticing Arthur slowly walking away.

"Hey wait, you gave me too much!" She yelled out to him

Arthur turned and said, with a soft smile across his face, "Keep it, you'll need it."

And he turned and strolled over to the Prussian, who was splashing in the water. The Englishman was surprised to see the ducks bravely circling around him; a small one had even nested on his head. Gilbert smiled at his mate and asked, "Did you ask her out?"

Arthur shook his head, offering a hand. "No, I think it would be better if the two of us didn't see each other."

Gilbert pouted, taking Arthur's hand and pulling himself out of the pond. Shaking himself dry, much to his friend's annoyance, he looked at Arthur and said, "Well, she's probably a prostitute or something. Go fuck her and then ask her out, is it that hard?"

Arthur blushed, an aurora of anger shrouding him. He hit Gilbert on the back of the head and stormed away. From the other side of the courtyard, where the café was, Francine watched on curiously, fingering the edge of the tray.

*****

That night, Arthur started his shift early, walking towards the café.

"Hey…" He stopped and turned to an alley nearby, where the whispered sound had come from. Down it he saw Francine, who was clutching to the edge of the alley. She smiled at him as he approached.

"Should you be out this time of night? Pretty thing like you could get hurt."

She took a step back just as they were half a yard apart. He noticed that she was slightly smaller then him, though Arthur supposed they would be the same if it wasn't for his black boots with the two inched high heel. Over her usual, waitress dress, she wore a tattered, dirty cream coat that stopped at her knees, covering up her gorgeous thin legs. She smiled and asked, "You're the soldier from earlier, right?"

He nodded, keeping his distance from the obviously frightened woman. He asked, "Did you want something, _chéri_?"

Francine took a step forward, her fingers playing at her hair again. "Um, I wanted to give you back the extra francs you gave me earlier—"

"You couldn't have called me here just for that, did you?"

"I didn't want to be in debt to a Nazi soldier, please…"

Without warning, Arthur pushed the woman into the wall behind, engulfing the poor woman's mouth whole. His hands were holding her wrists to the wall, until he was sure she wouldn't resist. Arthur then moved one arm behind her head, drawing them closer, and the other one was venturing down her back. Francine didn't once resist, even when he gave her arse a squeeze. He could only smirked when she 'eeped' in his mouth.

He moved away slightly and murmured, "Do you know how long I've waited…"

"You've been watching me… haven't you?"

"Oh God yes!" He engulfed her mouth again, rubbing up against her.

Eventually, they pulled away gasping for air. Arthur was the first one to recover, chuckling as he stood up straight. "Did you come out to see me partically?"

After gasping a bit, she stood up and nodded her head, shamefully. "I'm sorry, you were so nice; I just wanted to see you again…"

Smiling, he cupped her face, drew in so that their faces were only an inch apart, and asked, "How much for a fuck, then?"

Francine gasped, throwing herself back into the wall again. She shook her head and apologised, "I'm sorry, I don't… but I can give you a blow-job, if you need relief, Mr. Arthur, sir…"

"You heard my name when I was talking to Gilbert, right?" She nodded her head. He held her again, and said, "Alright, a blow, as long as it's from you…"

Smiling nervously, Francine bent down, helping him out of his pants. She saw that he was already rock hard as a reassuring hand was placed gently on her head. Arthur gasped as she drew him into her mouth. His face caught on fire, biting his bottom lip as that lushes mouth moved in and out, her tongue doing wonderful things over his erection. He looked around; making sure no one could hear them.

Trying to lock his knees in place, he muttered quickly, "I'll pay you double if you swallow!"

She stopped, grimacing a little as a warm liquid moved down her throat. However, she did swallow it, every last drop. When it stopped, she moved away, licking up after herself. Arthur kissed her as soon as she got to her feat; bring his pants up with her. He smiled, pulling away. "You're too cute…"

"_Merci…_" she stuttered as he did his pants up again.

He brought out several franc notes, placing them in her soft hands and pulling her near him. He kissed her again, slowly this time, sneaking in a grope behind her. When he pulled away, he said, "I better go on my shift, even though I'm still early. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

She smiled, nodding her head. "I'd loved too."

He walked off and waved to her, before disappearing around the corner. She bit her bottom lip, taking the back way to the café.

_End Note:_

_Yeah, this was kind of inspired by Inglorious Bastards. There's a picture of deviantart with France as the male version of the main female, and England dressed up as a Nazi, so that's where this idea came from._

_The only this works as a yaoi as if you imagine France in a girly dress, without the hair I'm afraid. I thought it would work, after I drew France and didn't like cause he looked like a girl  
-_- when I told my friend this, one of them said that 'he IS a girl'! That's when I knew he could get away with cross-dressing, if he took a few precautions._

_It is a little OC, since France isn't really as provocative as usual, since he's under-cover, but the rest should be a least some what in character. I liked doing Prussia! I've never really written him as a – semi – main character before, so it was fun to do. I gave him ducks since it was less likely for someone to see chicks just lagging about war-torn Paris!_

_Spain's in the next chapter: can't have a story without the best friend trio in there somewhere ^_^_


	2. Eingeschlagen im Feuer

**Achtung, Meine Schönes**

Chapter 2: Eingeschlagen im Feuer!

"Well, well: didn't think you'd be back this early," said Arthur with a smirk.

The Englishman waved as Gilbert, and a Spaniard clad in a murky green, Italian uniform, with matching, over the top hat, headed towards him. The Spaniard smiled, waving at his Nazi colleague, "_Ciao_ Arthur, it's been long, no?"

Arthur chuckled as the three took a seat at the café. "I wasn't expecting you back so soon, _Brigadeführer._ We're you kicked out of Italia or something?"

"Na, the troops there were called to Libya. Apparently, the Jacks and Aussie's have taken Tobruk, so they sent me back here for my own safety. So what's up here, anything new?"

Gilbert smirked at Arthur as Francine came over, holding her tray to her chest again. She blushed at Arthur and asked, "What can I get you today, _messieurs?"_

Before the Prussian or Spaniard could say anything, Arthur slapped Gilbert in the face and growled, "_I'm_ ordering; I don't want either of you's getting sloshed before twelve. We have a job to do you know—"

"But it gets so boring around here otherwise; just cause you Englishman can't hold your liqu—"

Arthur slapped him, a deep blush covering his face. "You can't say that!" He looked up at Francine and smiled, "Um, just three cups of tea, thanks."

Francine nodded and left. Antonio chuckled, turning to the Brit. "So you DO like the girl. Gilbert told me all about it when I got here."

Arthur gave them both a dirty before exchanging it for a warm smile when Francine returned with their drinks. She placed them down and smiled, "Call me when you're done," and she left.

Gilbert and Antonio began chatting manically, as Arthur picked up the cup. He took a long sip, thinking of Francine. The way she walked, when she ran her slim fingers through her hair, her lips… He almost chocked, coughing out some of the tea he had in his mouth. The other two laughed, Gilbert patting him on the back.

"Thinking of that girl again, comrade?"

Francine appeared behind the Englishman, rubbing his back and asking, "Ar- are you okay. Do you want me to get you a glass of water?"

He shook his head, coughing furiously into his hand. She moved close to his ear and whisper, "Please send your friends away when I come for the check, I need to talk to you…"

He blushed, his eyes averting her's as he nodded. The other two wolf-whistled, as he glared at them. She removed her hand from his back and asked, "Are you sure there's nothing I can get you?"

"I think you should get the tea-tottler a glass of water, _fraulin._" Said Gilbert, still smirking.

She nodded and left, only to return shortly after Arthur had recovered. He thanked her and she left again. He downed the water and slapped Gilbert in the face again. "Piss off you moron, I'll get the check!"

The two finished their drinks and left to monitor the city. Arthur got up, smiling as he saw Francine heading towards him. He happily gave over the francs, sliding the tips of his fingers over her smooth flesh. She blushed, holding her hand up to her chest. "Thank you."

She stepped forward and gave him a chaste kiss, pushing a note into his breast pocket. She pulled away, looking around cautiously, before telling him quietly, "Please, you must follow those instructions tonight. It's for your own safety."

She then left without a word. He looked around and noticed no one was in sight, not even his comrades. He looked down at the note:

_Meet me at the __Iris Magnifique Café at midnight, for your own safety._

*****

It was night and the soldiers were given orders to patrol the streets. Even Arthur thought this was a little strange and over the top for Ludwig. He stepped down a surprisingly lit street and stopped. It was a mob, with torches, and bats, and guns! They caught site of him, yelling out, "NAZI! GET HIM!"

His eyes widened as he ran off, the mob at his tail. He ran out of an alley and turned left, towards the café. _Go to the café, for your own safety,_ the note had stepped.

Just as he was about to pass it, a familiar voice _psst_ out to him. He stopped and turned to Francine, who was motioning him from a slightly opened door. He ran in, catching his breath as she closed, and locked the door behind him. Francine grabbed and pulled him down, so that the mob couldn't see them through the door window above.

"Why are you—" She cupped his face and drew him into a long kiss. Arthur wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer as the sounds outside, of the angry mob, came and left. Arthur could feel the woman shake above him, so he drew his hand up and stroked her hair.

When the noise from the outside died down, Francine pulled away, both breathing heavily. He brushed a bit of hair out of her face and looked at her blue eyes, which were dimly lit by the full moon coming through the window. "Why did you help me?"

"I need to know something from you."

"Oh, go on and ask then." He had a sober expression.

She lifted herself up and helped him up. Looking outside, she decided it was safe and opened the door, looking over at a lit lamp on the street as she leaned against the frame. "That means that either the people settled down, or your men are brave enough to venture out again…"

He kissed her on the cheek and said, "You need to tell me _what's going on_!"

She swallowed, looking back at the lamp. "Are you an English spy?"

"What?"

"Please, I need to know!"

He looked at her, wide-eyed. "You're not joking, are you?"

She shook her head. Arthur sighed, "No, I'm not from the British Army. I moved to Germany ages ago and haven't relinquished my accent yet. That's all."

"But, would you betray the German Army if I ask you to?"

He looked at her. All of a sudden, he pinned her to the wall and held her face in his hand. Glaring down, he asked, "What's going on; who are you?! My friends… my comrades, are they alright! What is all this? Tell me!"

She met his gaze, un-fazed by it. Without moving, she explained, "You're right, I happen to be part of the resistance here—"

"Then why are you telling me this?"

"Because I thought you were a spy from Britain. I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this…"

He sighed, releasing her and taking a step back. She continued, "You're friends are okay. They're up stairs with a couple of _girls_ from the café. Veronica and Beatrice would have helped them out of there without being caught. But I was serious before."

"About what, _Francine_?"

"About you joining us, and leaving the Nazi's, even though you're not a spy."

He looked away, watching two familiar clad men nearing them. Gilbert and Antonio stopped in front of the two, glaring at the woman. Francine took a step and partially hid herself behind Arthur. The Prussian was going to throw himself at her, but was held back by the Spaniard.

"But she did this, didn't she?! Let me go, Antonio!"

"Gilbert, calm yourself!" barked Arthur, throwing a hand in front of Francine in a protective manner. "She didn't have anything to do with the riot right now!"

"Two of our men were killed! I demand that someone pay for this!"

"Arthur, no one was suppose to get hurt. I wasn't involved with this…" She whimpered from behind the Englishman. Francine clutched his shoulders in fear.

"Look Gilbert, there's no point shooting her for something she didn't do."

Gilbert scolds him for a moment, before sighing, releasing himself from the Spaniard and walking away. Antonio followed suit, leaving the two alone. Arthur threw himself at Francine, lips locked, as the lamps in the street were re-lit. One of his hands were behind her head, pushing them closer. The other was venturing down her back, giving her arse a squeeze. She clutched onto his shirt, letting him deepen the kiss.

Arthur moved his hand around to the front of her. When she felt this, she shoved him away in fear. "Please don't!"

"Why? What are you hiding now?"

She grimaced, watching his pissed-off expression. She hung her head. "Meet me here, tonight, and I'll tell you. Please, PLEASE, don't be mad, I really am sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. But after a year—"

"I've been watching you for a year too," smiled Arthur.

She blushed; kissing him again as new sounds could be heard. Arthur chuckled, moving away to leave. "Sounds like it's over. I better get going, though, just in case one of the Freedom Fighters spots me again. I'll be here this coming night."

"Thank you, Arthur…" She watched him leave, both waving good bye at each other.

*****

"So what was the damage from last night?" asked Arthur, taking a seat next to Gilbert.

They were at a different café for lunch. The German and Spaniard refused to face Francine after the events of that morning, so they relocated half way across town. Gilbert sighed, still tired, "It was minimal, but they found another dead soldier around the place."

He glared at Arthur, who sighed, "I know, but she didn't have anything to do with it—"

"BULLSHIT! She told us to fuck those prostitutes, at the same time as the riot started!"

"She SAVED us! Francine kept you hidden from them and saved you! Doesn't that tell you anything?"

"Fine, I guess… I still want someone to pay for this!"

Antonio smiled, saying, "Yeah, I heard a couple of peasants are going to be made _examples _of at lunch time. Ludwig's orders, apparently."

"I guess that's good enough, are they being be-headed?"

"Na, blindfolded and shot dead."

"Sweet. Hey Brit, what are you doing?"

The Englishman got up, not looking at the two. "I'm sorry, I have another appointment. Please excuse me, comrades…" And he left.

Gilbert huffed, "He's going to the bitch, isn't he?"

"But he's got a point," The Prussian looked at his friend with a cocked eyebrow, "She did save us. If that Francine woman had anything to do with the resistance, she would have shot us instead."

Gilbert tapped his chin with his finger. "Huh, I guess you're right… She might be using us for information though…"

"Or using him!" They watched Arthur disappear across the street.

The Englishman took a seat at the café. Francine came over, looked around to make sure that no one was looking, and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Are you're friends still mad at me?"

"They'll be happy when you tell me everything!"

She watched his face turn a dark sober expression. She swallowed, bent down near him and said quietly, "Please, tonight. It's kind of complicated…"

Arthur smirked, grabbing her chin with his hand and kissed her on the lips. He pulled away and said, "Fine, tonight. Now I want a tea and a sandwich."

She smiled, leaving him to get his meal.

He was turned away from the café when the sounds were heard. Clanging and arguing wafted out of the kitchen area, causing the Brit to turn, just as a tall, blonde haired man with glasses stormed out of the café. Arthur went to get up, but was stopped by a soft hand on his shoulder. Francine, who suddenly appeared behind him, had a soft expression, panting. She shook her head and said, "No don't, just let him leave."

"Who is he, Francine? Is he from the resistance?"

She bit her bottom lip, taking a seat next to him. Looking around again, Francine held his hand and said, "I promise, I'll tell you everything you need to know tonight, even who that man was…"

She leaned in to kiss him, only for Arthur to pull back and look away. As she sighed, Arthur quickly cupped her face and pulled her into a furious kiss. She melted into the kiss, her hands shaking as they clutched his collar. She breathed in heavily as they pulled away.

Arthur came in close and said, with a smirk, "You still owe me a tea and sandwich."

She smiled getting up to return to the café.

_End Note:_

_I'm perfecting the whole _kissing scene_ thing, can you tell? I'll be surprised if they don't catch something from each other when this ends, with all the _tongue lashings_ they do, lols._

_Yeah, if you look up Tobruk (in Libya) during WWII, you'll notice that it was taken by the British and Australian soldiers in the winter of 1941, so now you know what year [and approximate date] of when the stories set._

_Both Spain and Prussia will be, some what main characters from now on. Man Prussia swears a lot! But it's still fun to write ^_^_

_So now we know half of France's story, and the rest will be coming up soon! Including why she REALLY hangs around England ^_^ And I don't think I have to tell you who the man in glasses was, I think you can probably think of who it is, even if you have to go back to when Prussian and England where talking in the LAST chapter!_


	3. Nachtüberraschungsangriff

**Achtung, Meine Schönes**

_WARNING: Sorry for the sex scene and random French -_-_

Chapter 3: Nachtüberraschungsangriff…

Arthur made his way down the street, heading towards the café again. He was able to sneak out and pretend to patrol the streets, what with the new four o'clock curfew installed after the events of the previous night. However, other officer's weren't the problem, Gilbert and Antonio were; who were now trying to _guide_ him away from Francine.

Ahead of him, he could make out the outline of a cloaked man heading towards him. The Englishman raised a hand and ordered, "Stop there, peasant: only Nazi personal are allowed out at night, unless accompanied by one of the German soldiers."

The man lifted _his_ head. Arthur froze immediately, thinking, _It couldn't be! No, it's not, she wouldn't be dressed in such a manor—_

"Arthur…" His heart sank. "You came, I'm glad…"

"Francine, why are you dressed like that?"

The _woman_ stalked towards him and threw her arms around the man. She nuzzled into his neck and said, tearfully, "Why do you think I'm wearing this? I'm sorry for lying to you, this whole time…"

Partically recovering from the shock, Arthur placed a hand on _her_ head and sifted his fingers through her golden locks, which were partically illuminated by the café just up the street. He hushed her, gently placing a kiss on her head. "Alright, take a deep breath and just tell me. I promise, I won't get mad, Francine."

"Francois," she sighed, still whimpering into his collar. "It's a long story, and I didn't mean to fall in love with you, or visa versa…"

"Was it a disguise?"

"Kind of…" She moved away, wiping the tears away from her darkened blue eyes. She smiled up at him. "You're not mad?"

Arthur shook his head, wiping a stray tear from her eye. "I don't care—"

"But I lied to you!"

He kissed her on the lips, and then again, and then again until it became an assault, her clutching for dear life. Pre-maturely, he pulled away, grabbed her wrist and started pulling her to the alley. She tried, reluctantly, to pull away, asking, "Wha- what are you doing? Where are we… going?!"

Arthur didn't say a word, all he did was pull her to the back of the café, which was being occupied by drunken Nazi's and prostitutes. (Yes, he knew his way around) He pulled her up the stairs, which wasn't very hard since she had stopped resisting a while ago. He pushed her into one of the un-occupied rooms and flung her onto the bed, tearing of her coat as he did to reveal that she was still wearing her maid uniform underneath.

Locking the door, he asked, "Is there any booze in here?"

She stuttered, "Um… I think there's a wine bottle on the desk over there—"

"Good!" He shrugged off his coat and attacked the bottle, downing. She could only look on, shaking in fear with what he might do when he finished it.

Wiping his mouth, he threw the empty bottle onto the ground and threw _himself_ at the woman the bed, whose eyes had widened in fear. She muttered, "I thought you weren't mad…" Tears welling up again.

He smirked. "I _never_ said I was mad; I just want to see what I missed out on—"

"Huh?!"

He moved his mouth over her's, attacking her with his tongue. He moved his onslaught over her cheek and to her ear, where he whispered, "You don't know how long I wanted to do this!"

Arthur pinned her hands above her head, with his own hand, resuming to licking her neck. She withered underneath, breathing heavily, yet moving her head to the side so that he had better access to her neck line. She moaned as he sucked on her jugular. He went to un-do the buttons on the top of her dress, but she squirmed, "Please… please don't, I beg you! Don't Arthur…"

"Fine, I'll just fuck you then."

"Wha?" With his free hand, he moved it to her dress and began pulling it up. He smirked into her neck as he moved his hand into Francine's underwear, stoking _her_. She murmured near him, the golden strands of hair falling over the woman's face.

He moved up to her ear, again, and licked it. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

She didn't respond as his thumb slid over the head. A gasped escaped as her body arched up to his touch. Arthur kissed her cheek and he growled, "Now, if I let you go, will you let me fuck you?"

She moaned, so he asked again, "Will you let me_ make love to you_?"

Shivering, Francine nodded, still not looking at him. He removed his hands from hers and used it to hold himself up, his other hand moving from the underwear and up to her mouth. He purred, "If you suck on these, it won't hurt as much."

Francine finally looked up at him, those blue eyes of her's dazed. He opened her mouth and let them in, running her tongue over them as Arthur started kissing up and down her cheek. He placed his hand on her's, stroking it softly. She eeped as he licked her tear stained eyes, pulling his finger's out of her mouth.

Arthur licked her ear and asked, "Are you ready?"

Francine nodded, letting the man move his hand between her legs again. She flinched as Arthur moved a finger in, going in slowly as to not hurt her. He looked her in the eye and asked, "Does it hurt?"

She bit her lip and shook her head, shivering, "It's just a li- little, tight…"

Arthur moved his lips over her's, trying to distract the woman from the pain, she seemed to be denying. He put another finger in and scissored, causing Francine to moan into his mouth, arching her back a little. She scrunched up her face when he put in a third one. The woman started to fidget under him, so Arthur used his free hand to hold her down gently.

"Alright, ready?" He pulled out, releasing her body. He shucked his pants down to his knees, as well as her underwear.

"Huh?" All of a sudden, he pushed in hard, their hips meeting. She threw back her head and gasped. "Arthur… too fast!"

He kissed her on the lips again, moving one of her legs up for better access. Arthur was merciless, getting a little faster each time. Francine scrunched up the bed sheets underneath her, so that she wouldn't be tempted to bite him. At one point, she felt a flash of ecstasy. Hearing her moan, Arthur took advantage of this sudden knowledge, and pounded her prostate hard. She pulled at her hair, her head thrown back as they lost contact.

"A little, mo- there!" He pounded in one last time and came inside her, biting his bottom lip.

Arthur fell onto her chest, both breathing heavily. He smirked, kissing her clothed chest and then looking up. "How much do you want for this?"

She began chuckling lightly with every breath. She wiped a tear away and shook her head. "It's okay Arthur, just be a little gentler next time…"

"Hm, will do, Francine…" He got up off the bed and started pulling his pants back on.

On the bed, the woman sat up and moved one of her thin fingers down to her erection, stroking it lightly. Arthur looked over and asked, "Do you want me to do that for you?"

She shook her head and explained, "It's okay: I usually give blow jobs, but I can deal with this…"

He moved onto the bed again and pushed her down, getting between her legs. She smiled nervously and stuttered, "Really Arthur, it's okay, you don't have to—"

She gasped as he took her in. Francine grabbed her fringe and scrunched it up as he deep-throated her, his tongue gliding along the shaft. They rocked gently on the bed, Arthur smirking up at her as he dragged his mouth up and down.

"Ar- thur… stop…" Francine struggled to say.

She moaned as she came in Arthur's mouth, which he swallowed without hesitation. He wiped his mouth and asked, "Felling better?"

Francine watched him for a moment, and then smiled, moving her hand from her hair. "You really _do_ like me, don't you?"

He placed his finger over her mouth and winked. "Love, Francine: I _love_ you, not like."

The woman laughed cutely and moved up, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips.

*****

Arthur was shocked out of his dreams by a loud noise.

Francine curled up next to him, her head rested on his chest. He rubbed his head and reliesed, _FUCK, that's a siren! Shit, air raid!_

He pushed her onto her back, kissed her, and then shook her awake. She rubbed her eyes and asked, "What's that sound?"

"It's an air raid. We have to get to the shelter QUICK!"

As he jumped off the bed, she grabbed his arm and informed him, "We can go to the basement here."

"The basement is a shelter?"

She nodded, getting up next to him as they headed to the door. Francine explained along the way, "Yeah, dad turned it into a shelter after the Great War, as a precaution."

They reached the bottom of the stairs and turned left, where a trap door was seen. She knocked on it four times – in a rhythm – and waited. A second later, the door opened a crack and a deep voice was heard. "Francine, are you okay?"

She nodded and said quickly, "Please father, we have to get in now! I think I hear a few bombs now!"

"We?" The old, dark haired keeper of the café looked over at Arthur, still in his Nazi uniform, scowled him and then shrugged. "Fine, get in _quick,_ amoureux!"

As it was, bombs were heard not far from where they were. They both practically fell into the room, as the door shut close behind them. Arthur straightened up, trying not to look at the stares that were coming at him. He sat down at the far corner and rested his head on his knees. A gentle hand rested on his shoulder.

"Are you okay, Arthur?" Francine asked, snuggling up next to him.

He snuck an arm around her waist and brought her closer. She laid her head on his shoulder as he whispered, "This shelter: it's for the resistance, isn't it."

Francine swallowed and murmured, barely moving her lips, "Yes, but try not to speak too much, or they'll read your lips."

He whispered in her ear, her hair covering his mouth, "If your father wasn't here, I'd be able to preoccupy _your_ mouth…"

She looked away, blushed.

At that moment, a bomb was heard very close to the building. Many of the woman in the shelter screeched and ducked their heads. Francine shuttered and crawled up closer to Arthur. He kissed her on the forehead and held her close, running a hand through her hair.

She murmured to him, her lips un-visible (I'd put invisible, but it sounded out of context to what was going on) by the hair, "See that man, right on the other side of the room wearing a bomber jacket?"

Arthur looked over and sure enough was a man glaring at him. He had dirty blonde hair and a brown, Air Force jacket. He seemed to be watching the two intently.

Arthur bowed his head into her curls and asked, "That's the one that ran out of the café that day, isn't it?"

She nodded.

"He's part of the resistance, right?"

She didn't say anything. "Francine…?"

She began humming, and then soft words came from near him. _"Nous vivons en notre sous-sol,  
derrière la porte de cave. Et main dans la main nous nous étendons, sur le plancher de ciment."_

"That song… what is that song?" Asked Arthur lightly.

Francine simply sung on, causing them both to feel tired. She continued on with her sweet tune, though, placing a hand on his leg and stroking it lightly, in comfort, _"Touchez-moi jusqu'à ce que je sois chaud. Tenez-moi jusqu'à ce que je sois sûr! Poussez-moi dans le plancher froid ainsi je peux sentir le contraste…"_

He chuckled quietly, letting her drop her head onto his lap, her voice dying away. She yawned, "_Chéri, j'aime votre chaleur!_ We're going to go talk to that guy when the air raid subsides…"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes…" He could feel her muscles relaxing beneath him.

Arthur looked around the room: Besides the man who was glaring at him, everyone was too preoccupied to notice the French woman cozing up to a Nazi. Even her father was too busy being shell-shocked to notice anything. The poor man was curled in a ball, rocking backwards and forwards.

Soon after, the bombs started to sound distant and a voice from the room's speaker said, _"The Royal Air Force has passed the Versaille district: it is now safe to leave the shelter, but you must remain within the area until either daybreak or said otherwise."_

Most of the people in the shelter sighed in relief, struggling to move after half an hour of stability and fear. Arthur smiled down at the woman sleeping in his lap: he felt bad waking her, but he knew he should. He bent down, kissed her cheek and said, "Francince: wake-up sweetie, we have to go."

Her eye twitched. After giving him a small moan, she moved up and rubbed her eye. "'m sorry, didn' mean to drif off…"

"It's okay, I'm amazed that you could sleep at all with the bombs dropping."

"Singing helps me calm down."

"And you have a very beautiful voice at that," She blushed, smiling up at him. Arthur helped her on her feet, keeping an arm around her for support. They, slowly, moved out; the man in the jacket following next to the Englishman. The man eyed Francine and said, "Do you know what you're doing?"

Without looking at either of them, she responded, "Alfred, this isn't the place. Wait until we get outside."

"DON'T say my name in front of a Nazi!"

"Alfred, this is Arthur, the one I keep telling you about…" She sighed, leaning into Arthur.

When they were outside, Alfred turned to the two and asked, "Alright Francine, _Francois_, tell me what's going on, now!"

"Alfred, don't yell please." Behind him, a young man, who resembled a lot like a younger version of Francine, with glasses, appeared in a white bomber coat and a giant bag. Arthur flinched when the young man opened the bag to reveal a polar bear inside. "Oh, Kumajiro: I'm sorry to leave you in there for so long, but you know I had to smuggle you in. I think the climate's too hot for Kumajiro—"

"Matthew, you're here!"

"WHY did you even _BRING HIM!" _Alfred moaned, slapping his own forehead. "Anyway, Francine, it's time for some answers—"

"And our next point of attack." Arthur looked between the two with intrigue.

_End Note:_

_This one was kind of, disturbing, to write since I still referred to France as a female (and shall keep doing so, lols). It made the sex scene sound really weird, but I like referring to him as her because it's easier to write. And in some sense, less confusing in context…_

_And the song she's singing is a love song I made up for it, since I couldn't think of any French songs I could use. I used the babel fish translator, so if some of the French is a little off, that's why -_- The lyrics are below (Yeah, I know it's a little corny, but it is a love song): _

**In Our Shelter**

**Dans notre abri**

We live in our basement,  
Behind the cellar door.  
And hand in hand we lay,  
Upon the cement floor.

But my heart is warm…

_Hold me, KISS me,  
Make me warm in this shelter!  
Kiss me, hold me,  
Let me just feel you.  
_  
Let me feel your warmth  
Next to my shivering form;  
Until I melt into your touch…  
Melt away from the bombs torn…

And your heart is warm…

_Touch me till I'm warm.  
Hold me till I'm safe!  
Push me into the cold floor  
So I can feel the contrast…_

Echoes rise from the outside,  
Not for where we hide.  
From the ideals of others  
Who destroy our kids, fathers, mothers…  
But I have you here by me--  
I have you here to warm me--

To hold me in the cold…

Hold me, KISS me,  
Hold me till I'm safe…  
At least until I know, we know,  
The bombs have stopped.

Darling, I love your warmth!

Nous vivons en notre sous-sol,  
derrière la porte de cave.  
Et main dans la main nous nous étendons,  
sur le plancher de ciment.

Mais mon coeur est chaud…

_Tenez-moi, EMBRASSEZ-moi,  
Rendez-moi chaud dans cet abri!  
Embrassez-moi, tenez-moi,  
Laissez-moi juste vous sentir._

Laissez-moi sentir votre chaleur  
À côté de ma forme de tremblement;  
Jusqu'à ce que je fonde dans votre fonte de contact…  
à partir des bombes déchirées…

Et votre coeur est chaud…

_Touchez-moi jusqu'à ce que je sois chaud.  
Tenez-moi jusqu'à ce que je sois sûr!  
Poussez-moi dans le plancher froid  
ainsi je peux sentir le contraste…_

Élévation d'échos de l'extérieur,  
Pas pour où nous nous cachons.  
Des idéaux de d'autres  
Qui détruisent nos enfants, pères, mères…  
mais je vous ai ici par moi--  
Je vous ai ici pour me chauffer--

Pour me tenir dans le froid…

Tenez-moi, EMBRASSEZ-moi,  
Tenez-moi jusqu'à ce que je sois sûr…  
Du moins jusqu'à ce que je sais, nous savons,  
les bombes nous sommes arrêtés.

Chéri, j'aime votre chaleur!


	4. Soldat des Vermögens!

**Achtung, Meine Schönes**

Chapter 4: Soldat des Vermögens!

"Alright Francine, time to spill!"

She sighed, taking a seat on a bench outside the café. The lights went on in the café, since it was still a few hours till sunrise. She glared up and said, "Arthur is going to help us with our next attack, isn't that right, Arthur?"

She stared up at him. Arthur couldn't believe what she was asking of him. Light-headed from being put on the spot, Arthur sighed and said, "Yes, I'm going to help you."

"But, why would you, Mr. Arthur, want to help us? Aren't you a Nazi soldier?" asked Matthew.

Arthur looked down at Francine, his expression softening. "I've had a change of heart, you could say."

Alfred scoffed at this and turned away, crossing his arms. "I still don't think this is a good idea. How do we know he won't turn?"

"He's technically English."

"What! Since when do the British join the Nazi's in helping them blow up their own people?!" He looked over at Arthur, who cocked an eyebrow.

"I moved to Germany when I was a teenager. I didn't, actually, have much of a choice," He explained. Arthur sat down next to Francine and asked, "Are you sure I should be doing this?"

Francine nodded and smiled, "It's okay, I trust you, Arthur."

"Alright, so Francine, what did you have in mind for the attack?" asked Alfred.

"We blow up the hall during one of the Reich meetings. There's a rumour going around that the head's in this quadrant will be attending, you see."

"Yes, according to my sources?"

"Arthur, are you okay?"

He didn't say anything, shuttering a bit as she smirked at him. She leaned in closer to Arthur, kissed him on the cheek – causing Alfred to pout again in disapproval – and said calmly, "Don't worry, Alfred and I will do all the planning."

Matthew suddenly spoke, much to their surprise – at least to two of them, "With your plan, we'd need an-_ inside man_…" He looked curiously down at Arthur.

The Englishman shot a glare at Francine, who looked away with shame. He let it go and sighed, placing his hand on her's. She looked at him and said, "It wasn't originally going to be you…"

Arthur just held her hand tighter. Alfred looked away and said, "Look, kid," Arthur snorted: _I'm probably older then you, mate._ "Don't worry about it; we'll have everything planned before we go in. Well, I'm pretty sure it will be by Sunday—"

"You's only have THREE DAYS!" Arthur's eye twitched at this new information. "How are you suppose to prepare for something like THAT with such a time restraint?!"

Alfred gave him a toothy grin and raised a thumb. "Heroes always win!"

Francine giggled, moving next to Arthur and clinging to his arm. Alfred sighed, grabbed Matthew's arm and started walking off, saying back to her, "Francine, don't get so close to him. We'll contact you tonight."

When they were gone, she gave the Englishman a hug and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm so sorry…"

"Don't start this again—"

"But I am!" Arthur looked at her: a bright glint in the horizon suggested that the sun would rise soon. Even though it was faint, the glint made the silhouette of her shine brighter. Francine frowned when she caught him staring, and asked, "Arthur? Arthur, are you okay?"

He held her chin, gently, and kissed her on the lips. He nibbled at her bottom lip, her hands clasping his collar once again. He placed his hand on the back of her head and deepened the kiss. However, he quickly pulled away when he heard two, familiar, voices nearing them.

The two parted and quickly looked in opposite directions by the time Gilbert and Antonio appeared. The Prussian waved and said, "Hey Brit, wassup?"

Arthur glared at him. Gilbert just shrugged, letting Antonio ask, "Where were you last night? You didn't seem to return from your shift when the bombs fell."

The Englishman resisted the temptation to look at Francine and said, "Another bomb shelter."

The two looked over at Francine and then turned their gaze to each other. "Right mate, another shelter: where was it then? Or did something _distract _you last night?"

Arthur scowled them, but before he could say anything, Francine got up. "I'm sorry; I have to go get ready for work. See you at lunch, then, Arthur." She bent down, kissed Arthur on the cheek, and swiftly moved off towards the café.

He glared up at the two and inquired, "What do you want? Shouldn't you be monitoring the area or something?"

Gilbert pulled him up off the bench and they went off back to HQ. He told him, "Ludwig wants us back soon, something about this Sunday."

Arthur bit his lip.

*****

The café was surprisingly crowded that night. Arthur sat on one side of the room, the closet soldier being a metre away. He had his arms behind his head, watching Francine, as well as the other waitresses that had doubled for the evening, running around, filling Nazi's drinks, etcetera…

He smiled as she came over and asked, "Do you want something to drink, sir?"

Arthur grabbed her arm and pulled her into his lap. A blush crossed her face as she looked away. There were wolf-whistles, but who knew if it was for them or because of how rowdy – and drunk – everyone, in the café, was.

He nibbled on her neck, causing her breath to hitch, leaning against him. He smelt her hair and said, "Hmm… I miss that scent of yours. You've been working hard tonight."

She tried to move away, only for him to pull her closer, his arm around her waist and the other resting of her thigh. He licked up her neck again, making her shutter. "Ar- Arthur… stop it…" She started to giggle.

"Why, you like it, don't you?"

He caressed her stomach, nibbling her ear. His other hand started up her skirt, and through her giggling, Francine tried to stop him, struggling in his grasp. "Stop it, not here, sweetie…"

The sound of the father-clock was faintly heard over the crowd. Francine gasped and tried to get off. Arthur pulled her back with both hands and began suckling her neck. She turned and said, trying to avoid a kiss, "No, Arthur: I have to go up and get the message from Alfred…"

"Huh?" He looked up and saw how serious she was.

Arthur got up with her, grabbing her wrist towards the stairs. As she looked around, he smirked and pulled out ahead, dragging her behind him. She yelled out, "This isn't the time for that—"

"I know," he concluded, still dragging her as cat-calls could be heard.

When they were on the next floor, he turned to her and asked, "Alright, which room?"

"This one," she pointed to a room near them. As soon as they went in, she lifted up the bed and opened a small, trap door underneath it. "Quick, lock the door."

When he did, Arthur returned and fell to his knees, next to her. In the trap door was a speaker set. She lifted it up and told him, "I don't want you to speak: Alfred will tell us more if he thinks you're not here."

He nodded, keeping silent as she contacted the American. "_Bonjour,_ Bold Eagle: this is Rooster; can you here, _mon ami, over_?"

There was some crackling, then a voice spoke, "This is Bold Eagle, is the line secure, over?"

"_Oui,_ over."

"Good, the plan is this: send in that soldier boy of your's into the meeting. Right when the Russian gives his speech set it off without delay, over."

"Who is the Russian, over?"

"Yes: _Brigadeführer _Comrade Ivan will be announcing the allied's plan for the invasion of France. We need to stop him before he does, over."

"What about Arthur, over?"

"Who cares… over," and the line cut off.

She placed the instruments back into the trap door and closed it. Arthur asked her, "Is that the plan?"

She nodded, "Yes, but I'm going to give you a communicator before you go in, so I can tell you when to get out, and where to go. Will you be okay with it?"

"You're not going to strap the bomb to me, are you?"

Francine chuckled, turning to kiss his lips. "Of cause not. I'm not going to let Alfred kill you."

They got up, let down the bed again, and were about to move out when Arthur caught her hand and pulled her back into a hug. "Now, where were we, sweetheart?"

She smiled, letting him kiss her again. He moved backwards and threw her onto the bed, then jumped onto top of her, their lips crashing together again. She straddled his hips, trying to get closer to Arthur. When they broke away, she murmured, "I'm not going to let _anyone_ hurt you."

Arthur licked her cheek and said, "Likewise: neither Alfred nor Gilbert will be able to get near you, I promise you that."

A glint appeared in her eye. Before he could say a thing, Francine threw her arms around him and said, "I'm for all this. I love you so much, and this was the only way I could think of to get closer to you."

Francine shuttered when he burst into laughter. He ran a hand up her thigh and said, "_Je t'aime, mes amour._ And when this is over, I'll bring you to London, even if we have to stow away on a boat."

Looking at him for a moment, the edge of her mouth twitched and she started to laugh too. He moved down and kissed her neck as she continued laughing.

*****

Arthur rubbed his eye: this was the second time he missed his shift because of Francine – not that he minded… Ludwig was going to kill him, hopefully not literally!

He went to sit up, when a weight to his left held him down. He looked over and saw Francine, curled up – or rather, half on him – next to him, holding him tightly as though she was afraid someone was going to pull them apart. He smiled, running a hand through her hair.

It pained him to do it, with how peaceful she looked, but Arthur knew she would have to wake-up soon, or else Ludwig WOULD kill him. Arthur kissed her on the cheek and shook her a little. "Francine, it's morning."

An eye twitched as the woman slowly woke-up. She smiled nervously, resting her head on his shoulder blade. "I have to go to work now, don't I?"

"Afraid so, but so do I: I'll see you at lunch then—"

"I don't want to get up, just want to be beside you, sweetheart…" She stretched and moved her arms behind his neck. She kissed him on the chest.

He sat up, moving one arm around her waist as he did. Placing a hand on the back of her head, Arthur drew them into a kiss, running his un-occupied hand through her hair. They broke away when sounds of banging came from below. "I think we need to get up."

"Yes, I agree _mon amour,_" she smiled, getting off of him.

They got dressed in silence; Arthur winced every so often at all the wrinkles in his clothes. Francine didn't seem to care about her's though. She straightened her skirt and asked, "How are you feeling?"

"About what?"

"Tomorrow night…"

There was a silence. Francine sighed and walked over to him, who was trying to neaten his tie in the mirror. From behind, she moved her arms in front of him and proceeds to neaten up his tie then did the same to his Iron Cross. Arthur leaned his head against her cheek and said, "It depends, what will happen to us after tomorrow?"

Francine finished with the cross and placed her arms around his waist, "We can run away to London, if you want."

Arthur broke into laughter, spinning around to embrace her. He licked her ear and whispered, "We'll take the first ship on Monday, if you want."

She giggled, slowly moving away. "I have to go to work, it's already eight o'clock. Why don't you come down for breakfast, Arthur _cheri_?"

He thought for a moment then smiled, shrugging his shoulders, "Why not, this means that your happy face will be the last thing I see before my boss kills me…"

"Oh come on, he can't be that bad. I remembered _monsieur Ludwig,_ he can't be that bad."

"If that's what you think?" He finished, letting her lead him down to the café.

_End Note:_

_And so, the plot thickens, I suppose…_

_Did you like how I made their identities after their national animal? I didn't know what else to think of, so I decided Bold Eagle and Rooster. This is kind of a mock-scene from "Allo, Allo", this way awesome, British comedy about WWII in France. Yeah, accept their transmitter is one of those toilet pots, back in the old days, in the grandmother's room, lols._

_Oh, and the reason behind Ivan's thing is that I didn't have the internet when was writing this chapter, and that's when I remembered that I had mentioned Ivan in the first chapter, so now there's a reason to it._

_Oh, and YES, I finally put the American and Canadian in. Them, Gilbert and Antonio will be making, semi, big appearances over the next couple of chapters for two different reasons. Poor Arthur, getting into trouble with EVERYONE, both his people AND the allies; at least he has Francine by his side ^_^_


	5. Umfassung von Längen…

**Achtung, Meine Schönes**

Chapter 5: Umfassung von Längen…

Arthur sat at the table, watching peasants move about. Francine was going to join him on her shift, so he waited around; bored at the table he was at. He was also sure to keep an eye out for Gilbert and Antonio, lest they get wind of what's going on.

He was about to have a sip of his tea, when a soft crash could be heard, followed by a lot of commotion. He looked over and saw a couple of German and Italian soldiers yelling at a young woman with dark skin and hair. She was wearing the same waitress uniform as Francine. Arthur got up and stepped in, holding the girl back from a nearing soldier. "What's going on here?"

One of them pointed down at a discarded tray and broken plates and cups. "The clumsy bitch dropped our lunch, now step aside comrade!"

Arthur held the young woman behind him and said, "That doesn't mean you have to attack her—"

"Excuse me, what's this?" Behind Arthur and the girl was Francine, her hands behind her back. She didn't seem too pleased that a couple of soldiers were trying to ruff up her stuff. Her eye twitched as she continued, "I'll ask again: excuse me, _what_ is going on here?"

One of the soldiers's turned and growled, "One of your ditzy waitresses made a mess of things," He drew out a gun and pointed at her head, who seemed un-fazed, "I demand some sort of compensation, or something, _fraulin_."

Arthur gasped and said quickly, "I'm sure there's a way we can sort this out _without_ shooting anyone…"

"I'm not sleeping with them!" interrupted the dark girl.

Francine grabbed the man's gun by the barrel and said, "I will have someone over shortly to clean up, or you can leave, _sirs._"

The soldier, with a smirk, was about to pull the trigger, when a hand-sized rock came flying at the man's hand, knocking the gun away. They looked over and saw the owner of the store, he returned the growl, "I'm sorry sirs: I will get someone to help you right away. Francine, can you get Mimi please?"

"Yes sir," And she moved away from them, though not without brushing her hand over Arthur's along the way. The soldier threw his arms up and said, "Forget it, we are taking our leave."

"There is no point staying at such a café," said another.

One of the Italian soldiers flipped them off and left. The owner of the café _returned_ the favour and then strolled up to Arthur and the girl. "Chelles, I didn't hire you to damage my goods, help Mimi out when she gets here."

"Yes sir; and thank you _Saint George_ for saving me earlier."

Arthur scratched the back of his head. "Well, I think it was more Francine—" He looked down at the girl, who had a glint in her eyes. _Wait; did that girl referred to me after an English Saint? Francine…_

The owner of the store just glared at him. That's when Francine decided to throw her arms around the Englishman's chest. She rubbed her cheek against his and said, "Papa be nice, he was just trying to be nice."

The old man huffed and looked away. "Be alert, sweetie: they can turn you know."

"Yes papa…" And he went off behind the bar.

She moved around and gave Arthur a kiss, before snuggling up to him. Chelles snickered, as another young woman, with black hair, came over and began cleaning up the mess. Francine went to bend over, to help, but was stopped by the woman who raised a hand, "It's okay, _Mademoiselle_ Francine: Chelles and I can clean it up. Go talk to the gentleman."

Francine stood back up. "If that's okay, Mimi: we'll be over here if you need assistance."

The two returned to Arthur's original table. She took a seat right next to him and gave him a peck on the cheek. "That girl, Chelles, she'll have _it_. Be out back, tomorrow evening at around five, and we'll see what we can do."

Arthur moved an arm around her waist and whispered, "Can I ask you something… professionally?"

She looked at his sober expression for a moment and then sighed, nodding her head. "Is your father part of the resistance too?"

Francine looked around, and then proceeded to lick his ear, whispering, "Everyone at the café are apart of it. How do you think we get the information so easily?"

"Why was it so crowed that night?"

"We needed as much info as we could get," he looked at her with curiosity. She giggled, distractingly, and continued, "So papa set up half price night, or something… Vanessa and Mimi put on an act, and I got to spend the night with you…"

She started to hum as she relaxed into his hold, her head resting on Arthur's shoulder. Francine murmured, "_Nous vivons en notre sous-sol, derrière la porte de cave…_"

"Francine?"

"Hmm, yeah _amour_?"

"What's that song you're humming? I remember you singing it back at the shelter."

Francine was quiet for a moment, letting Arthur stroke her thigh. She yawned and murmured, "It's a love song called _Dans notre abri_: someone sang it to me some time ago, but I don't remember who…" She scratched her head and continued, "I know it was some guy, but my memory draws a blank… Wish I could remember."

"_Dans notre abri_: what's that in English?"

"In Our Shelter; it's a WWI song, I think."

He held her close, before saying, "I have to go back to work now."

"Yes…"

He got up, her following suit. He turned and said, "I'll see you tonight then."

"But, the event isn't until tomorrow evening—"

"This isn't about the event." He kissed her on the cheek and finished, "You're face is the last thing I want to see if something goes wrong, so I want to see you at the alley at around eleven, okay?"

She smiled, nodding her head. "I'll dress normally again, just in case anyone comes by."

And with that, he left.

*****

"You know, you really do look like a guy in those clothes."

"Sorry Arthur, but it helps when walking around the street." Francine grasped his arm as they moved out of the alley and into the back of the café. They headed up stairs, towards her room.

He asked, "Isn't your father suspicious about where you go of a night?"

She shrugged, "I'm of the resistance: he probably thinks I'm either doing stuff for them, or doing something _behind_ the bar, if you know what I mean…"

"I didn't know you did _behind the bar_ work…" He cocked an eyebrow at her as they entered the room. She locked the door behind them, and then turned to face Arthur. She giggled, kissing him on the lips. After a little while, she pulled away and said, "Like I said when, when we first met: I give blowjobs… every so often—"

"My poor lily," Arthur laughed, leading her to the bed.

It didn't take long for their clothes to be lost, as Arthur had one leg between her's, them tongue tied again. He pushed her into the pillow more; their finger's intertwined beside them. Arthur pulled away, bringing a dribble of saliva with him, and asked, "Don't you ever want to be on top?"

She giggled, kissing him on the nose. "I don't mind, since it's you. And it might be our last night together, so I want you to enjoy it."

"If that's what you want."

Arthur kisses her again and then runs his lips down her jaw line, licking the base of the ear. Francine moans as she feels him move down her neck, sucking on the crook. She breathed in heavily, throwing her head back as he came to rest on her chest, licking up the smooth skin – yes, this is VERY OOC Francois!

Clutching her hair, she whimpered, "Uh… hn, Arthur…?"

"Hmm…?" He was still licking her chest, a finger playing at one of the nipples. Francine shivered underneath, before finishing, "Never mind… I, I lo—"

"I love you, Francine." She froze: it wasn't that she's never heard him say it before; it was just a shock to hear him say it so casually. She smiled, moving her hand from her hair and chuckled, "Thank you, Arthur."

"For what?"

"For trusting me…"

He smiled, moving away to look up at the woman. Arthur crawled his way up and looked her in the face. "Strange, you have that effect on me, but I don't mind…" He moved down and kissed her on the lips, fingers intertwined with each other.

*****

"Alright, so I have to meet you at the back at five, right?" Arthur asked, fixing up his tie.

Francine nodded, finishing combing her hair in the mirror. Without her seeing, he smirked and said, "Sweetheart, I can't do my tie again."

She looked over and smiled. "I'll do it."

Francine finished in the mirror and went over to him, grabbing hold of his tie. A blush crossed her face as Arthur placed his hands on her head and began kissing her head, moving down to her forehead. She froze as he reached her cheek, licking up her nose. He asked, "What's wrong, I like it when you baby me?"

She bit her lip and snuggled into his neck. "Just be careful."

"I will…" He swallowed, snaking his arms around her waist. "You're scared about Alfred, aren't you?"

"Yes…" Francine paused, as though trying to think of how to explain it. "But, just… I don't know…"

"Shh…" He ran his hand through her hair, holding her close. Taking a deep breath, she smiled, holding him in return.

*****

Ludwig stood in front of his men, as they stood at attention: Arthur, along with the others, saluted as the German walked up and down in front of them. He stoped and said, straightening his hat before he began, "Alright, _achtung:_ Comrade Ivan has graced us with a party, of sorts. He and his men will be exchanging information with us, so DON'T SCREW IT UP! We need this information!

"And one more thing: I don't want ANYONE to allure to our invasion of Russia this June! There are rumours that they already know, and that Ivan is using this chance to get out of having to return to Russia as a front, but none the less: we must take precautions, understood?"

"Yes sir!"

"Good: now return here at eighteen hundred hours this evening for final details before the event, understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good, dismissed!" And they all saluted, before leaving to finish their duties for the night.

Arthur side glanced at Gilbert and Antonio: the latter still looking peaky. It was always weird to see Gilbert so serious and scary when it's aimed at you. When Ludwig moved on, the Prussian went over to the Englishman and said, "I hope your girlfriend isn't planning anything tonight."

"You're the one who tried to set us up—"

"Before I knew she was in the resistance!"

They stood there for a moment. Arthur sighed and smiled gently, saying, "You're not a very good judge of character…"

"I know," Gilbert placed his hands on the other man's shoulders and continued, "You could get hurt, you know; you should be careful. Tonight's very important to brother, and if it goes wrong, then it won't just be me who gets into trouble."

Arthur looked at his friend for a moment before nodding, the smile returning to his face. "I know, thank you for your concern, even though I'm not sure if you're doing it for my sake or your own—"

"Are you kidding? I'm a good person, aren't I? I'm totally watching your back, mate!"

The three of them laughed, until Gilbert drew in closer, his grip getting harder, and leered at Arthur, saying, "And I mean it, you bastard…"

The Englishman nodded, a bead of sweat falling down his cheek.

He breathed again when the two men walked off. He got his fog watch out and checked: _only one fifteen._ It wasn't that Arthur was nervous or anything, but he was a little worried about Francine: she seemed so shaken up this morning, and it was hard to ignore. He figured the best thing to do was finish his duties as quickly as he could before going to see how Francine was. This proved to be difficult, as he tried not to draw attention to his ulterior motives.

Being stuck on patrol, he wasn't able to see her until ten minutes before he was due anyway. But it was still time together, that's all he hoped for…

_End Note:_

_Damn this took a while. I have this problem where it's not the fact that I'm stuck for ideas, but more with being motivated to do it, especially since waking up at one o'clock everyday doesn't help the brain much._

_France seems to be more and more OOC every time I write him/her. I promise, the next chapter won't be as sappy as this one: I got a little stuck and didn't want to go straight into the event, so this is kind of a filler chapter. And Seychelles is finally in it; I didn't know what else to call her, so I just gave her the same Chelles… I know, I'm a pain that way._

_One more thing: it's almost the end of the school year here, so I'll be bogged down with homework and studying for the next couple of weeks. Combining that with the other story(s) and work I'm doing, as well as the length of these chapters, it might take me a little longer to churn out the next chapter, so I'm afraid you'll have to be patient…_

_Sorry._


	6. Höllen Feuer!

**  
Achtung, Meine Schönes**

Chapter 6: Höllen-Feuer!

The sun shone an afterglow of pink, purple and blue as Arthur stalked down the road, towards the café. There were still Nazi soldiers everywhere, ushering the peasants to their homes. The Englishman ducked into an alley and behind the café. No one was there. Heart beating, he looked around, calling quietly, "Fra- Francine? Miss Chelles?"

"Pst!" He turned to see the dark girl from the café. Chelles was wearing a long, grey coat and a navy blue beret. She looked around and ushered him to where she was. She explained, "Francine and that are over in the forest near the hall. To avoid suspicion from your _friends,_ she sent me over. Come along then."

He followed her to a forest area. To the side of it, he could see the gold and white lights coming from the town hall the Nazi's were going to use tonight. A few yards away from him was Francine: dressed the same as Chelles. She was peeking from behind a tree, watching the people over at the hall. She turned when she heard the crunch of ground. Francine beamed when she saw them. "Arthur."

The African looked away as Francine threw her arms around Arthur, giving the two a little privacy as they embraced each other. Soon after, Francine moved away and explained, taking out a briefcase from behind the bush, "It seems that Alfred trusts me enough to do this on my own, so here's the bomb. Don't drop it or anything: we've tried to keep it stable, but it's still a little sensitive." She handed him a small hearing device. "Alfred has an informant in there, who will rush out when it's time to detonate. As soon as I see him, I'll contact you on this. Leave the briefcase as _close to _the main stage as possible and then leave as quickly as you can: Understand?"

Arthur nodded, placing the piece in his ear. Francine saw as Arthur stretched out for the suitcase, but instead, grabbed her arm. She gasped as he drew her into a kiss. Chelles looked away again, red in the face, as Arthur took advantage of his lover's shock to push his tongue in. Francine breathed in heavily as Arthur places a hand behind her head, drawing her closer.

All too soon, they broke apart, Francine breathing heavily. They looked at each other and laughed. Chelles turned to them and asked, "Are you's done yet, he has to get in soon to avoid suspicion."

They nodded. Arthur gave Francine one last peck on the cheek and left with the briefcase.

When he arrived outside the hall, he noticed a semi large crowd standing around (what he guessed was) a table. Carefully, he shoved his way through. There were two people at the table, a game of chess sat between them. The closest to him was a fellow, blonde haired Nazi, the other was another blonde, but this one was different. He was clearly taller then any of them, even he though he was sitting, and his uniform was obviously of the—

"Ivan, old boy, you are doing well once again." Standing next to the Soviet was a Chinese man with long black hair, tied up at the back. Upon both men's breast pockets was an insignia clipped to it with the _Sickle and Hammer_ on it.

The Russian moved a black pawn forward and waited. The platinum blonde placed his hand under his chin and thought. With a smirk, he captured the pawn with a knight, giving Ivan a corky smile. It seemed that the Nazi was doing well, until Arthur examined the board properly and noticed why the Russian wasn't too concerned.

"And I thought you Russian's were good at tactic's," commented the Nazi. A few of the soldiers behind him snickered.

Arthur looked at the two Communist: The Chinese man had a small smile on his face, as he watched the board with enjoinment. The Russian was both funny AND scary at the same time: half his face was covered by the shadow of his hat, a wide smile plastered across his face. With two bulky fingers, the Russian moved forward another pawn, taking the knight, and then proceeded to say, "Check."

The Nazi looked down and bit his bottom lip: indeed, there were several pawns and a rook close to his king, with this pawn opening up to allow the queen to take the Nazi's king. Desperate to move it to safety, the blonde moved his king to the left and smiled.

The Russian chuckled, moving one of his pawns to the end of the board. He then replaced it with an upside down, black (that had been take out of the game earlier) rook and called, "Checkmate, comrade Weitz."

_Interesting,_ thought Arthur, examining the board closely, _The Russian relied on the pawns because they would've been unnoticeable to any plans, then proceeded to have them reach the other side of the board, so that they could be _promoted_ into Queens _[Yeah, it's an actual rule!]_. _Arthur smiled in a realisation, _nothing less from a Russian, I suppose…_

Without warning, Arthur jumped when he felt someone tap his arm. When he looked over, he saw Ivan smiling at him, now standing six feet tall next to him. The Russian asked, "You are Nazi soldier, da? Your eyebrows," Arthur's eye twitched, "You must be Herr Kirkland: that soldier Ludwig has told me about you."

"Oh yes," Arthur extended a hand out to the Russian, "I'll be one of the soldiers guarding you tonight, if you don't mind?"

Ivan took the hand and shook it. "It'd be pleasurable. It is nice to meet you, shall we go in?"

Arthur nodded, picking up his briefcase and following the Russian in. Behind and to his side were other Nazi's as escorts.

The hall was large, with people in uniform still running around, moving around tables, chairs and placing drinks on each one. Ludwig was on the stage, flipping through his papers. Arthur searched around for Gilbert and Antonio. As he moved through the room, he heard two people yelling out his name.

"Yo Arthur, over here!"

The Englishman looked over to the front and saw that his mates had gotten seats near the stage. This made him sweet: this meant he was able to leave the suitcase close to the stage, but this also might draw suspicion from her mates there. Taking a deep breath, he held the case behind him and walked over to Gilbert and Antonio.

"Arthur, we saved you a seat."

"Yeah, dude: you got here in time, brother's about to start."

The Englishman sat down, looking up in time for Ludwig to start his speech. Just like the Führer himself, Ludwig was long winded and dramatic. Not to say that his speeches were bad, they just weren't very inviting when you were carrying a bomb that's going to blow-up half the people here. It was half an hour until Ludwig finished his speech, stepping down to let everyone drink and eat until Ivan's _big_ announcement.

Arthur looked a few tables away from him, to where Ivan, Ludwig, that Chinese soldier, and two other Nazi's where sitting. Ivan was laughing, holding up a fork with a sausage on it. The Englishman caught a few words: guessing by the amount of time's Ivan referred to the Chinese man as 'Yao'; Arthur assumed that was his name.

He turned away, back to his mates, and almost jumped: there seemed to be a new appearance to the table now. Sitting next to Antonio was a young, dark hair boy with brown eyes and a disdaining expression that could rival his own. He was sitting in between the Spaniard and the Prussian, loosely listening o what Antonio had to say.

"So how is your brother, Lovi?" asked Antonio.

Arthur – and Arthur alone, it seemed – saw a slight twitch in the young man's eyes before answering, "Feliciano is quite fine: he is looking after papa."

"Is that why he wasn't in Libya?"

The young man nodded, the pissed expression unmoved. Gilbert turned to Arthur and laughed. "Glad you could join us, Mr. Spacey! Meet our newest colleague."

"Lovino, this is Arthur. Arthur; Lovino."

The Englishman held out a hand and said, _as quietly as possible, without being un-acoustic,_ "Hey there… Italian front, right?"

The Italian, taking a minute to decided whether to touch the hand or not, finally took it and nodded. "Yeah, we just got back. We, being me…" He glared at Antonio.

Arthur cocked and eyebrow and looked at Antonio. The Spaniard chuckled and explained, "Feliciano has a habit of running off, just before fights break out. His been using the excuse of looking after his father to get out of the draft."

"I see…"

The dinner went on, in Arthur's opinion, un-eventful. He spent most of the time worried about the bomb at his feat; only paying semi-attention to his friends. Arthur could barely hear anything over the ruckus of excited Nazi's and those few Russian soldiers, as they cheered and drunk.

Five minutes before the speech from Ivan was about to commence, people around started to settle down, but only slightly. But this difference allowed Arthur to notice a certain Chinese man touching his ear. The man then preceded to leave the festivities.

Arthur gasped and got up, bumping the table slightly.

"Arthur!" yelled Gilbert, getting up as well, "Wha- where are you going?"

The Englishman turned and quickly came up with, "I- I, have to go to the—"

"You bastard!"

"Gilbert stop!"

The Prussian lunged at Arthur, who dodged just in time. Gilbert threw a punch: Arthur blocking it, leaving him open to being kicked in the shins. "Gilbert, stop it: what are you doing?"

"You bastard; what are you up to this time?!"

Their fight quickly gained the attention of the people around them. A few of the Nazi's even started to chant as blood was drawn from Arthur's lip. The Englishman tried to pull away, through the gathering crowd, but it only succeed in the Prussian grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him back. "You're doing it again, Arthur! What are you up to?"

"Nothing: Gilbert, fuck off!"

Seeing no other choice, Arthur began pulling Gilbert through the crowd. He could just see Antonio and the Italian following them. Gilbert tried to pull Arthur back, but failed as Arthur tripped him a little, making the Prussian stumble forward.

_Well,_ thought Arthur, _At least this way you won't die too, even if you'll hate me for it._

Arthur's eyes widened as he saw Yao near the entrance, looking equally shock at the sudden act of violence. When he saw Arthur coming towards him, he quickly left out the door, into the darkness. Arthur was able to pull Gilbert to the other side of the room, with Antonio and Lovino at toe. Crackling could be heard in his ear: "_Ar- Arthur… Can- can, can you hear me? Arthur? Our… informant, is out. Out here. Get out- out… Now!_"

"I'm sorry…" muttered Arthur, pushing Gilbert out the door.

"Wha—"

BOOM! The bomb went off inside, thrusting them – as well as those around them – into the court yard. Gilbert and Arthur were thrown the furthest, landing yards away from everyone else. Arthur recovered first, attempting to stand up. His legs were wobbly, but he could stand.

"You _arsehole:_ What the FUCK did you DO?!"

Gilbert grabbed Arthur's ankle, trying to pull him back down. "ARTHUR!"

"Gilbert please; don't do this."

The Prussian pulled himself up and wrapped his hands around Arthur's neck. Still shaking, it wasn't as hard as it could've been, but the message was there. With burning eyes, Gilbert squeezed and yelled, "You'll pay; if my brother's dea- LUDWIG!"

He suddenly let go and ran – or rather, wobbled – off, back towards the building. Antonio and his Italian friend just looked at Arthur, not sure what to believe. As havoc erupted, Arthur turned on his heels and ran towards the forest, not looking back, even when people called out to him.

"Arthur!" Francine threw her arms around her lover, shocking the Englishman a little.

"I'm okay, don't worry…"

He looked behind her to see Yao, looking as confused as ever, standing next to Alfred, who looked really pissed. The American grunted, "Well, as long as we got the Russian it doesn't matter much…"

With this, Arthur could only ask: What was he going to do now?

_End Note:_

_Sorry for the wait, it's been a bit dodgy of late. If I don't get the next chapter out before Christmas (knowing me, I probably won't) then don't expect it until a week or two AFTER it. It's because my father's coming down to see us (my two sisters, mum and I) on boxing day, and I felt mean about always hijacking my computer whenever his here (he misses his own, you see) so I decided not to write while his here for the week. Sorry -_- I'll try to get the next chapter up SOON instead, them._

_I have two questions to ask you lot:_

_One, I haven't decided whether I should kill off Ivan or not. Arthur won't find out (not anytime soon, anyway) who's survived until later on anyway, so it doesn't really matter. And I HAVE decided whether Ludwig's alive or not, but that's for me to know, and you's to PATIENTLY sit and wait for future chapters. Let's just say, he hasn't an importance, so DON'T bother making any suggestion about him to me!_

_Second: it's fun to have Francois as a girl, but sooner or later he'll have to grow out of the dress (or not), so I'm wondering if you lot want to see him TOP in a later chapter? There isn't much Francois bottoming fics out there, but I can make an exception if you want him to top in a dress, or something fun like that…_

_Anyway, thanks for being patient. Now back to writing Split Mind… huh, oi…_


End file.
